Through the Looking Glass
by The BirdFox Hybrid Productions
Summary: Apparently, funky looking mirrors could send you into alternate dimensions in which you're an evil overlord to an entire world. Quite a predicament you're in there, Demyx. [AU] [Zemyx] [AkuRoku] [RikuSora] [Slaves] [Hotness]


**Into the Looking Glass**

_Psycho Rooster of The BirdFox Hybrid Productions_

**Disclaimer:** I don't own anything this time. The plot was a challenge given by _Cover Me With Starlight_. I decided to take that challenge.

**Notes:** All the lovely and wonderful people who have read this on my account, just copypaste your review to here because I'm going to be taking down all my KH fics from Psycho Rooster once you do and posting/updating them here. :D

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There were very few things that Demyx disliked in their world. One of them happened to be hallways. Whether he be in Castle Oblivion or in an actual maze, Demyx could never find his way out-- let alone find a hidden room within the aforementioned maze. 

Thus, the blond Sitarist was stuck in his current predicament. He chewed idly on the inside of his mouth, eyes scanning the dull orange and browns of Ansem's many winding hallways. His fingers twitched and a sigh escaped the young Nobody. "I knew he was sending the wrong guy for this." Demyx sighed remorsefully as he procured a small notecard from inside of his coat. He flicked the notecard to the side with writing.

"Retrieve the Mirror of Destinies from Ansem's study." Demyx muttered. He scowled, flipping the card over to stare at the blank side. Nothing more and nothing less than what was written in Xemnas' loopy scrawl. Demyx released another pained sigh and tucked the card back into his coat. He stepped backwards and then turned around, fully intent on returning to the large room where he'd started.

"It would help if I knew what a study was." Demyx grumbled under his breath, reaching up a gloved hand to scratch at the back of his head- where there was an unbearably annoying itch. He stopped mid-step into the office-like room to see a tall man standing in the center of the room with a large gunblade attached to his hip and a scowl on his face.

"A member of Organization XIII, huh." The man rumbled, hand reaching out for his sword. Demyx laughed weakly and backed up. He wasn't there to fight, just to get a mirror so that the Superior wouldn't force him into battle with the Keyblade Master again. He took another step back before whirling around and bolting.

Straight into something tall, and very hard.

With a grunt, Demyx fell backwards to the ground. A loud snort came from wherever the dark-haired man happened to be. Demyx scrambled to his feet, summoning his Sitar with a flash of light and water. He held to the neck and base tightly, backing up behind the cloth-covered object. It looked like a large dresser to the blond nobody. Demyx strummed a little tune, summoning a single clone to stand guard and stop the man from advancing. His eyes darted to the left and right, seeking a place of refuge. His gaze landed on a small handheld mirror with black and ivory framing that rested on the very top of the dresser.

Without thinking, Demyx snatched it up by the handle and immediately pressed the mirror to his chest protectively. The gunblade-toting man lunged for Demyx with his weapon drawn as the musically-inclined nobody felt an odd tug around his chest. He gasped, nearly dropping the mirror when the tug became even fiercer, and looked down to see the wire frames of the mirror detaching from the object to creep around Demyx's body. A startled shout escaped him when they began squeezing his chest tightly- crushing the mirror into his ribs until there was a burst of light that blinded him.

Demyx opened his eyes -- though he didn't remember closing them -- to see himself. The man before him was almost identical to Demyx himself, only with darker eyes and the sides of his head completely shaved and his hair in a much neater mohawk. His counterpart sneered at Demyx whenever the blond tried to touch the tattoos adorning his twin's head. A hand snapped out to grab his wrist and there was another flash of light before Demyx found himself slumped over in a large chair covered in blue silks.

"My Lord?" A soft voice called out gently. Delicate fingers encompassed one of Demyx's hands that clutched so tightly tot the arms of this apparent throne. Demyx jerked his hand away in mild surprise. There was a startled gasp from beside him and Demyx lifted his head to see a very oddly dressed Zexion kneeling beside his legs. His slate hair still fell in silken tendrils over a single navy eye. His limbs were sickeningly thin, aqua and dark navy bracelets and other trinkets adorning bony wrists. Along his right arm was the same cerulean tattoo Demyx had seen on his counterpart. The blond studied it for a moment. It was exotic- but at the same time held a resemblance to ocean waves.

Zexion's eye remained steadfast on Demyx's body, narrowing. "My Lord- your hair." The boy said in the same soft-spoken voice he had used earlier. Zexion lifted a pale arm to run lithe fingers through the sides of Demyx's hair -- just above his ear. It was then that the blond nobody noticed that his companion was garbed in blue silks with a single earring in his left ear of a dolphin.

Demyx reached up to pull Zexion's hand from his head. "Uh, sorry Zexion, but I didn't do nothin' to my hair." He paused, glancing around in realization that he was in a palace of sorts. A long breath escaped him. "Oh boy."

Zexion stood slowly- revealing that his small tunic was the only article of clothing that the thin teen wore. It exposed milky white thighs and long calves covered in the same blue design with more trinkets hooked around his ankles. "Perhaps you're dehydrated from casting another soldier spell." The slate-haired teen mused, pressing a thumb to Demyx's lower lip before stepping back. "I shall retrieve a pitcher of water for you." Demyx had no time to protest as Zexion swiftly departed- the only sound being his bare feet padding against cool tile and his anklets chiming gently.

Demyx exhaled shakily and sunk down in his chair, placing a trembling hand to his forehead. One minute, he's been on a mission- the next- Zexion, of all nobodies, was laying at his feet and acting as if he was some sort of servant to Demyx. Had there been something in the mirror that had forced Demyx into an illusioned reality? Zexion's hands had felt pretty real against his head and lips.

Demyx scowled. His head was already beginning to hurt with all the thinking that this situation required.

The sound of shattering glass startled the blond into looking up as a large, menacing shuriken went flying straight for him. A shriek escaped him and he ducked down a second before it severed his head off. Instantly, three men and two young girls were barging in through the apparently broken window.

"Booyaka!" Shrieked the brunette girl, high-fiving with her companion. "Great shot Yuffie!" The other girl grinned before they faced Demyx. A man of whom Demyx recognized as the same one who'd tried to stop him earlier, stepped forward with his blade drawn.

"The Hollow Bastion Rebel Alliance has come for you, Lord Myde. Our country won't stand for your tyranny anymore." He said darkly. Startled, Demyx slid out of the wounded chair and stood with hands held up in the sign for peace.

"You've got the wrong guy, buddy. I'm Demyx, I'm a Nobody, remember? I'm not a Lord." Looks were exchanged between the brunet man and the blond behind him before the gunblade was pointed at Demyx once again.

"Your glamour tricks are useless, Myde." Demyx hurriedly tried to summon his Sitar with the darkness- a surprised yelp escaping him when nothing happened. The brunet man smirked and charged.

Demyx screamed.

And he ran.

The sound of metal hitting metal reached Demyx's ears just a second before the blond man in the group swiftly appeared in front of him- a large and menacing sword pointed straight for Demyx.

"My Lord!" Zexion cried out from another point in the room. Demyx released a yell of surprise, barely turning in time to avoid being cleaved in half by the monster of a sword. He ran straight for Zexion, falling to his knees and sliding behind the pale teen. "My Lord- why not use your magic to do away with these simpletons?" Zexion asked quickly as the blond man turned and headed straight for them. Demyx concentrated on summoning his sitar again- nothing happened.

"I can't!" He squeaked out. Zexion threw his hands up in time to summon an invisible shield just as the large sword descended upon them. Demyx clutched fearfully to Zexion's legs. "Why are they trying to kill me? I didn't do anything!" He shrieked, eyes darting to see the brunet man locked in a fight with-- Roxas?

No, it was the brown haired impostor. Sora, the Keyblade Master.

Demyx suddenly wondered why on earth the Keyblade Master would be fighting one of his own -- and with a sword, no less. "My Lord, we must escape. Sora will take care of these buffoons." Zexion said sharply, his hands moving back and then thrusting forward to send his blond attacker flying backwards. Instantly, Zexion's thin hand was on Demyx's wrist and tugging him out of the room. They hurried through winding corridors until Zexion suddenly stopped in front of a blank wall and pushed on it.

Surprisingly, the wall gave way. It shuddered and pulled back before sliding to the side to reveal a dark room. Zexion ushered Demyx in and the door slid back into place, engulfing them in pitch black.

There was a rustling- a clinking of metal chains that startled the blond sitarist. The room was without any light, and it took him a few moments for his eyes to adjust as Zexion strode forth and lit a handful of candles that rested on a small dresser. There was a fairly large bed up against a wall, with black sheets and a pale figure resting in it's dark depths.

Demyx inhaled sharply in surprise, taking a step back. The figure released the smallest of moans, stretching his body along the length of the bed to reveal a finely chiseled chest that was bare of any clothing. With a sudden double-take, Demyx realized that the figure on the bed was completely nude and exposed, silver hair falling in smooth tresses along the bicep it rested upon.

Zexion approached the bed, leaning forth to whisper. "His lordship is in the room. Make yourself presentable, slave." This seemed to surprise the youth for he scrambled to hide himself and bow in a complete body fold upon the bed.

"My Lord, I was not expecting your presence. Forgive my insolence." The apparent slave uttered -- body immobile. Demyx glanced uneasily to Zexion before shaking his head.

"You've got the wrong guy. I'm no Lord or whatever. I'm a Nobody. I don't even have a heart." Demyx said softly, his hands waving about in protest. Both figures stilled before Zexion approached him.

"My Lord, did the rebels manage to cast any spells upon you?" Demyx drew his head back from the approaching hand, batting it away.

"Look, you've got the wrong guy. I'm not some Lord or whatever. I'm me," He jabbed himself in the chest with a thumb. "I'm Demyx. All I wanted to do was get some dumb mirror for the Superior and go play my sitar. " His hands flew out to motion to the dark room. "I didn't wanna get sucked into some stupid mirror and pop up in a place where everyone's crazy and stuff!" He stepped back from Zexion's advancing steps.

"My Lord, calm down. It's apparent that you're under some sort of hallucinogenic spell. Things will be fine, please, just rest." Zexion grasped firmly to Demyx's hands and shot a menacing look to the boy in the bed.

"Up, slave." Instantly, the boy scrambled as far from the bed as he could before the chains around his wrists and neck stopped him just a few feet off. Demyx was guided to the bed and almost forcefully sat down by frail hands. He looked up at Zexion just as the boy waved a hand about. "Sleep, my Lord." Fatigue struck Demyx like a rampaging heartless and he collapsed to the bed, asleep instantly.

-

Dimensions away, a tyrannical leader awoke to an indifferent navy eye staring down upon him. "You're a fool to have fallen asleep on such a simple mission, IX. You disappoint me." Murmured the slate-haired youth to the man before him. Myde shifted and a hand darted out to instantly wrap itself about the other male's throat.

"Since when have I granted you permission to be disappointed in me, Ienzo?" He hissed out. The Nobody's eye momentarily widened as realization dawned upon him that this was not the Demyx he knew. He struggled for air, attempting to push this impostor away in vain. When it seemed like his last bouts of consciousness were drifting from his grasp, the hand released him and Zexion fell to the ground in a heap.

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I may or may not continue this... depending on feedback. 

And people who fave/alert** disgust me** because it's just to mock me. I get a message in my inbox saying you've fave/alerted, but no review, like 'haha, you know me and that I didn't review and there's nothing you can do about it.' and it makes me feel like what I've written wasn't good enough for that review.

The reason I have such a large problem with those who don't review is because a lot of the 'more popular' authors get this too-- we have over one hundred people who are favoriting and alerting our stuff, yet we get less than that in reviews. It's fine at first, but then the number of reviews that come in start dwindling and so I start to second-guess my writing, like it's not good enough or that they don't even like it THAT much, but enough to read it.

I want you to review and I want you to tell me why you liked this and what you liked about it, be constructive, have a review open in one window and the fic in the other and write notes on the review as you read. THAT is what makes us authors happy.

So please, for the love of boysex, just tell me if you liked it or not.

OR DEMYX DIES. -evil laughter-


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